


Just Another Day

by spaceorphan



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceorphan/pseuds/spaceorphan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine's morning, right before he meets Kurt on the staircase (set during NBK)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Day

Blaine wakes the same time he does every morning, and starts his daily routine (shower, hair gel, blazer, breakfast). His mom has left him some gas money on the kitchen counter with a note attached that she’ll be gone for a few days for another cosmetology workshop. He doesn’t see his dad. He rarely sees his dad. He makes some coffee (the morning isn’t right until coffee), and heads for school. Just another day in the life of Blaine Anderson. 

It’s slightly overcast as he makes his way up the familiar steps of Dalton Academy, but that doesn’t dampen his spirits. It’s finally cool enough now that it’s November to button the blazer, and he does so as he heads up the steps. He stops when he gets to the top, adjusts his tie, and takes a breath before entering the old building. Dalton is like a second home, every inch of it a familiar and safe place. He loves Dalton, and feels secure in its familiarity. 

Still, as he enters, something feels different about today. He can’t put his finger on what. 

David’s waiting for him in the lobby, waving a sheet of paper in his hand. “I changed my team for fantasy football.”

“You aren’t supposed to change your team in the middle of the season,” Blaine reminds him with a grin. 

“I can when I’m losing so badly.”

Blaine takes the sheet from David’s hand, and quickly scans it as they begin walking down the hall. “The quarterback from Michigan? Really?”

“Who else would I have?” 

“And no one from Ohio State?” he teases. “What is wrong with you? You live in Ohio, have you no pride?”

“You can not have pride in something that sucks,” David says without losing a beat. “So, how’d your team do this weekend?”

Blaine lets out a tiny groan. “I haven’t had a chance to figure it out yet. Dad really wanted to get the car done. We busted our asses all weekend just to get it running.” 

“Wait, what?” David asks, his squeaky shoes echoing in the hallway as he came to an abrupt halt. “You mean you got the Camaro running?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Blaine replies with a shrug. 

David’s eyes go wide. “And you didn’t drive it to school?”

“Yeah, cause my dad trusts me driving a ‘73 Camaro to school.” 

“You will let me drive it at some point, right?”

“If it were up to me, you could have the thing,” Blaine says. 

He has no attachment to the car. He’s not sure his father does either. They had spent the entire weekend finishing the months long project in silence. He wonders what it accomplished. 

As he and David resume down the hallway, they’re joined by Thad, who was staring intently at a small, rectangular card in his hand. 

“I can’t believe this,” he says with a huff. “Next semester they want me to take Latin and Russian. Along with my advanced physics and ancient Greek philosophy, how am I ever going to find time to work on my art?”

Blaine and David exchange humored looks.

“Are you planning to top the creation you made last year?” David asks. 

“It was a sculpture!” Thad says, his face growing read. There’s something amusing at how defensive Thad got over his art. “It was a--god, you just don’t get it.”

“It was a very nice lump of clay,” Blaine offers. 

“It was a traditional African tribal bowl that represented--” He doesn’t get much further before Blaine and David break down in laughter. Thad raises a dismissive hand. “I just can’t talk to the two of you.”

A woman in a pencil skirt wearing glasses passes them as they turn the corner. Both David and Thad take a moment to glance at her as she walks the other direction. Blaine shuffles awkwardly, waiting for them to come back to reality.

“Shame you’re not taking French next semester,” David comments. 

“That’s the new French teacher?” Thad asks. “She’s replacing Professor Gangrich?” 

“I heard her talking to the headmaster yesterday,” David says. “And man, she is fine.” 

“She is quite exquisite, yes,” Thad agrees. “Maybe I should reconsider the Russian.”

“Definitely reconsider the Russian,” David insists. 

They both look to Blaine, as if waiting for his agreement, then realize it’s Blaine that they were talking to, and exchange awkward looks. Blaine’s more than used to it, and tries to defuse the situation with diplomacy, like he always does when these things come up.

“She certainly has lovely features,” Blaine says. “I may not be into that, but I can appreciate beauty when I see it. And if I can assume that she puts as much time into her teaching as she does how she looks, I’m sure we’ll all be better at the romance languages for it.”

“Oh god,” David says rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t mock,” Thad says. “You know he could easily charm the pants off a woman twice his age if he wanted to, and much better than us, may I add.” 

“Thank you,” Blaine says gratefully. “But it’s a wasted talent if I don’t have anyone to use it on.”

“You will soon enough,” David assures him with a pat on the back. 

I hope so, he thinks.

When they enter the common room the Warblers often occupy, most of the group is already there, huddled around Trent, who’s gesturing with big hands, telling some story. The boys come up to the back of the circle. 

“You guys are just in time! I was just telling the guys about my trip to New York City. Look what I got on my vacation!” Trent says with a squeal. He begins to loosen his tie, as the rest of the group exchange nervous glances. Trent shrugs off his blazer and pulls his shirt up. Thankfully, there’s a t-shirt underneath, one that reads ‘I (heart) New York’. 

“Trent!” Wes had entered the room, coffee in one hand, gavel pointed at Trent in the other. “I’m not going to tell you again. Put your clothes back on.” 

There are a few snickers as Trent begins stuffing his shirt back into his pants. “Anyway, I haven’t told you guys the best part. So, like I was saying, we were lost for hours. And finally, we found this bus that was advertising that it was for tourists.”

“Oh no,” someone moans. 

Trent nods, still excited. “So, we got on, and oh man, it was amazing. It was a tour bus, nothing bad happen. It wasn’t like it was full of kidnapping drug dealers or something. But, it was guided drag queens. Drag queens! Drag queens were giving a tour of the city. Blaine, you would have loved it.”

“What?” Blaine gave him a confused look. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean--no,” Trent stumbles over his words trying to correct himself. “I’m so sorry that came out wrong. I mean, no offense to you. And no offense to the drag queens either. They were awesome! I-I just meant you would have loved it because they were doing the tour to the Broadway tunes. And I know you mentioned before that--oh god, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” Blaine says, not sure if he was supposed to be amused or offended at the comment. 

The rap of Wes’s gavel stops Trent from delving further into his story. “Okay, guys, let’s get to business.” Everyone turns to the front of the room, where Wes has sat himself behind the large table. “The headmaster gave us approval for a mini-concert this afternoon at lunch. I suggest the Katy Perry medley we’ve been practicing should work well for that. Of course, Blaine, we would like you take the lead.” 

“Oh, well, if you insist,” Blaine replies. He remains modest but he’s stopped feeling guilty about taking lead. It’s a privilege, and an honor that they think so highly of him. 

“You’re amazing Blaine,” Trent says. “So we insist.”

“I’m really not any better than...”

“Yes, you are,” Trent continues. “As a freshman, you beat out three seniors for a solo at regionals.”

“And we still lost,” Blaine reminds him. 

“Alright, alright,” Wes says, rapping his gavel once again. “As Blaine has just reminded us, we have a lot of work to do with sectionals coming up soon. Let’s get to work.” 

After glee, Math is his first class of the morning. There’s not much of a lecture, and the rest of the hour is devoted to doing homework. Blaine finishes his in ten minutes, and spends the rest of the time browsing show choir chat rooms on his phone. He sees there that Rent is coming to Lima, and thinks about getting tickets. He isn’t sure he wants to go with the rest of the Warblers though. When they all went to the Sing-a-Long Sound of Music, everyone was paired up except for Trent, but as much as he likes Trent as a friend, he just isn’t someone he wants to cuddle up with. Maybe Rent wouldn’t be so bad alone, Blaine thinks. He’s not sure the others would appreciate it as much as he would anyway. 

English is next, and he gets through it the best he can. The professor is waxing poetic about Catcher in the Rye, but Blaine doesn’t feel much sympathy for Holden Caulfield. Maybe if the kid stopped whining and tried a little harder, his life wouldn’t suck so much. Still, he knows what it’s like to feel alone. Blaine writes his essay on how Holden’s life would be different if he had had a friend who understood him. 

History runs over due to the professor’s love of some war that happened in Europe four hundred years ago, causing him to rush to the common room. He doesn’t want to be late for the performance. 

He’s deep in his head space as he hurries down the giant staircase to the first floor, thinking about choreography (they need to work more on those spin moves), and song selection for sectionals (he has a good arrangement for Hey, Soul Sister in mind), and what song were they doing first in this medley… 

“Excuse me. Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I’m new here.” 

Oh. Right. 

Teenage Dream. 

Perfect. 

Blaine introduces himself with a grin, and extends a hand, being the gentleman that he is. The gorgeous creature who stopped him on the stairs is named Kurt, and he’s a bit lost, and most likely not a real student, but Blaine goes with it. He then takes the boy’s hand, and suddenly his world shifts. 

Not just another day.


End file.
